


An Evening Visit

by Elayna



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:51:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4322064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/pseuds/Elayna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik visits Charles after the events of X-Men: First Class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Evening Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Movie-verse only. I wrote most of this years ago, after the DVD had been released, realized it was probably the most common trope in X-Men fanfic, and dropped it. I finally blew off the dust and polished it this week. I apologize if it's a well-used plot, but I needed to indulge in this world.

The October Crisis was over, Hank had amused himself by handing out candy to the few kids who made it to the mansion for Halloween, Thanksgiving approached quickly, and all was relatively calm at the newly named Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters. At least, as calm as any place could be, inhabited by people with developing and unique abilities. Charles relaxed in his bedroom, his novel lying unread on his lap, grateful that he took time each evening to be alone and quiet in this new environment they'd been creating. 

His thoughts strayed, as they often did, to Erik, and what his former good friend and ally was doing. Most likely, Erik was focused on building his group of loyalists into an effective fighting force and recruiting more mutants to his cause, just as Charles had been searching for more students to attend his school. 

With some surprise, Charles watched the metal handle on the window lift up and unlatch, followed by Erik floating into his bedroom, his feet resting on a polished metal disk. The impressiveness of his silent entry was diminished by the fact that he had to crouch since the window wasn't as high as he was tall. His helmet was even more ridiculous looking than the one Shaw had designed, with flashy pink and red highlights, and he was dressed in black with a dramatic red cape. But still, he was Erik, more handsome than Rock Hudson and with an inborn dignity that the bent posture and garish accents somehow only accentuated. 

Charles couldn't read Erik through his helmet, but he waited instead of reacting, trusting that his intentions were honorable. Or at least would involve a certain amount of talking first. Reaching out, Charles touched the minds around him, finding his own students quietly engaged and no unknown mutants in the vicinity. 

Maybe they should survey the entire mansion and eliminate all metal, but who knew what kind of mutant Erik might recruit next? Trying to protect against any and every kind of mutant attack could lead to madness. 

"I'm alone," Erik said as he landed the metal disk on the floor and straightened. 

"And you can fly now." 

"We're taking your advice and developing our skills. Metal can be useful in so many ways." 

He strode over to the dresser where Charles kept a decanter of Scotch, pouring two drinks, offering one to Charles before sitting on the settee across from Charles' wheelchair. 

Charles put his book on the end table, taking a sip of his drink. Wearing that ridiculous Buck Rogers helmet, Erik was utterly blank to him. For as long as Charles could remember, he'd been able to reach out and read the minds around him. Only the telepath and Shaw or Erik in the helmet could block him. This was what reality was like for everyone else, and Charles wasn't fond of it. "So what do I owe to the pleasure of your company?" 

Erik glanced at the wheelchair. "I heard you couldn't walk." 

"Yes, I've lost all feeling in my legs. Still, between medical research and mutant abilities, I don't imagine it's a permanent condition. The house has been retrofitted and I have both a telekinetic and several very strong students. They make it easy for me to get around. I'm better off than most people with my condition." He spoke casually, carelessly, wanting to reassure Erik that he was fine. They were something of enemies now, but they had been friends, and Charles blamed his condition on a bad combination of circumstances, not on Erik. Besides, he did have it better than most people. On some level, he'd always known that he'd benefitted from his family's money, servants and private tutors, excellent schools and regular vacations, even a mutation that was easy to hide, and now with extraordinary people to make his lack of physicality easier. 

"How far does it go? Your condition?" 

The questions perplexed Charles and he wished not for the first time that Shaw had never created the wretched helmet. He didn't like being in the dark. "How far does it go? My legs, Erik. It goes the entire length of my legs." 

"No, I meant – " Erik was blushing, except a hardened Nazi killer would be surely beyond such a physical reaction. Putting down his Scotch, Erik took the helmet off, slowly but with resolution, obviously knowing Charles would pounce on his exposed mind. He set the helmet next to him on the settee and sipped his Scotch calmly. 

Since Erik gave him the opening, Charles took it. Surface thoughts were of Mystique relocating everyone as soon as Erik left to visit Charles, and that they had indeed been spending most of their time training and searching for recruits. "I really don't want to be your enemy and track down your secret lair," Charles reassured him as he went deeper. 

Minds were typically chaotic to Charles, memories and thoughts sparking randomly, requiring time and digging to find what he wanted. Despite his power, he couldn't absorb an entire lifetime of memories in seconds. Erik's mind was remarkably organized, which was not surprising since he was an extremely disciplined person, dedicating his life to correcting past injustices. Three facts of Erik's self-image floated constantly in his mind. Jewish. Mutant. Bi-sexual. 

Charles had sought a childhood memory before, when searching for a way to help Erik unlock his control over his powers. Now he delved into his adult self-image, for the essence of who Erik was, and how he regarded himself. Erik's Jewishness was branded on his skin, a number on his arm that he never wanted to hide. He was proud of his people, their history and culture, even though it had made him a target. 

His mutant ability wasn't visible on the surface, not like blue skin or iridescent wings, but it couldn't be hidden when being used. Metal didn't move by itself. And again, he was proud of it and didn't want to disguise it, except when he made a calculated decision that discretion was the best choice in a given situation. 

His bisexuality… now that was curious. It came last, and was the least settled in his mind. Jewishness came with centuries of traditions, his … what would the word be, mutantcy? had developed with rage and pain and the awareness that his talent was special and could be used for destruction, but being bisexual had developed more slowly in his mind. He was Erik; he was gorgeous. He had no trouble interpreting an interested gaze, making a subtle tilt of his head to arrange a rendezvous, either with a man or a woman. But his whole being was so focused on his causes, first Nazi hunting and now mutant supremacy, that love and romance and how to tell when the bonds of friendship turned into sexual desire were surprisingly convoluted in his mind. 

Digging deeper, Charles followed Erik's thoughts on his sexuality and saw himself. Charles, the first person who Erik truly regarded as his equal and his friend. Charles, who had taught Erik that trust was possible. Charles, who had suffered paralysis from Erik's use of his power. Charles, who… he gave a low chuckle out of surprise. "You risked coming here to see if I was impotent?" 

And yes, there was definitely a red flush on his cheekbones, which only increased his attractiveness. "You should have children, Charles. Your genes deserve to be passed along." 

"I have my children, my students." 

"That's not the same thing." 

"And yet you have no plans for children. Your ability and strength deserves to be shared too." 

"I don't expect to have a settled life." Erik waved his hands, gesturing at the surroundings which said 'home' to Charles and 'rich opulence' to him. 

"You can always change your mind. You are welcome back at any time." 

"No, I can't. And you haven't answered my question." 

Charles smiled regretfully at Erik's flat declaration, but let it pass. "I can still orgasm, yes. I've only done it with my good right hand, but everything works fine." 

"Good. At least you'll have the ability if you change your mind." 

"Yes, I can ask some nice woman to hop on and ride me while I lay like a lump." 

"It's not a bad position to be in, Charles." 

The images in Erik's mind were exciting, Erik with men, always in control, no matter what position, but this was all a masquerade to obscure Erik's real thoughts. "Erik, would you sodomize me?" Charles luxuriated in the spike of pleasure the question brought to Erik's mind. 

"I don't want this out of pity, Charles." 

"Do you know which one of us is pitiful? It's me. Because I've always been able to touch a person's mind, to know if he or she is amused by my chatter or flattered or if I'm hitting a total dead end and if so, which direction I need to go to be appealing again. But now I'm surrounded by all these children, who regard me with awe and respect and not at all as someone that they'd even think about loving because I'm a cripple in a wheelchair. 

"So Erik, seriously, shut up and take me to bed." 

Erik gave a wry smile of agreement before putting down his drink. He approached Charles, cupping his face in his hands. "I like to kiss my lovers first." 

Charles slid out of Erik's mind, not interested in learning more about his previous lovers, wanting to respond only to Erik's physical actions. Erik's kiss was firm, enticing. Charles moaned into his mouth, accepting his tongue, feeling Erik's fingers working on his buttons. He reached out to return the favor, plucking at the front of Erik's shirt, realizing it was buttonless, his fingers skating down to find his belt instead.

Even without reading Erik's mind, his elevated breathing and the speed of his fingers revealed that he wanted Charles desperately. Charles shared that feeling wholeheartedly. 

Erik released his mouth, backing up to undress, cape released and allowed to drop to the floor, shirt pulled over his head, boots and socks kicked off, pants and underwear pushed down his lean hips, until he stood naked, unashamed and aroused. 

"Beautiful," Charles murmured. He'd always been active, but Erik had honed his body to be a weapon, his lean muscles strong and gorgeous. His circumcised cock jutted out from his body, pointing toward Charles, and the thought of its size in his anus was a little daunting, but not enough to change Charles' mind. "You'll have to help me." 

"We need supplies." 

"Bathroom." Charles pointed to the door, watched the perfection of Erik's flexing muscles walking away from him, taking off his shirt even as he mentally checked on his students. Most were now asleep, no sign of disturbance. 

Erik made a motion as he walked in, Charles' wheelchair rolling to the side of the bed. Being moved without permission was disconcerting, but not surprising. Erik had always been a man of action. 

"Your control is effortless." 

"I've found that place between rage and serenity." 

"I'm glad." 

Erik tossed the covers back on the bed, before crouching to remove Charles' shoes and socks. He took Charles' feet from the pedals and put them on the floor, before raising him to stand. Charles reached back, holding onto the chair for balance while Erik brought down his trousers and underwear. 

Charles glanced down at his body. The injury and lack of appetite while recovering had caused him to lose weight, leaving him gaunt, his ribs and hip bones prominent. Charles contemplated checking Erik's mind, to see if he was pleased with the sight in front of him, but decided to trust the warmth and pleasure in his eyes.

He gave a gasp as Erik scooped up him into his arms, holding him securely, taking time to give him another lingering kiss as the wheelchair rolled out of the way. "My lord, you're strong." 

"You've lost weight." He placed Charles on the sheets, caressing one hip, his thumb brushing on the sharp bone. 

"A little." He urged Erik down to cover him, kissing him, feeling the wonder of their bodies brushing against each other. His penis very definitely appreciated the sensation of hairy chests colliding, even though his legs were useless, disinterested. "Sitting around doesn't work up much of an appetite." 

Erik took him in hand, stroking, his thumb running over the head, encouraging his penis to full erection. "Definitely not impotent." 

Charles stared at the sight, conscious that his breathing was already beginning to get rougher. "I won't last long," he admitted, embarrassed at his lack of control. 

"You're not reading my mind or you'd know I don't intend you to." He bent his head, took the tip of Charles' penis in his mouth, sucking and licking. Charles buried his hands in Erik's hair, soft and slightly wavy, and enjoyed the rising pleasure, so much more intense with a partner. 

He could reach in, find out where Erik had learned to do this, how he'd become so talented, but he hesitated, adrift in sensations, his back arching, trying to make his unresponsive hips drive his penis deeper into Erik's mouth. 

His orgasm was a rush and release, energy gathered and expanded, his hands clenching in Erik's hair, strands tight in his fingers, before he forced himself to relax his grip, petting Erik's head in apology. 

Erik perched himself on his elbows over Charles, kissing him lushly, sharing the taste. 

Taking hold of Erik's cock, Charles stroked him, wishing he could feel it burning against his thigh. 

"But that wasn't what you asked for," Erik said, his voice smug and satisfied in a way that might have made Charles want to hit him, except the promise of more was so tantalizing, even in his current drained state. "Can you lie on your side?" 

"Yes." He used his upper body strength to roll to his side, moving his hips with his arms. 

Erik grabbed one pillow and tucked it under Charles' bent upper leg, helping him to stay in place. "You are gorgeous," he said, kissing the nape of Charles' neck, down his spine, spreading his hands over Charles' ass. "Do you feel my touch?" 

"Only on my back. I don't feel anything from the waist down." 

"And this?" One lubed finger was entering his anus, stretching him. 

Charles breathed a sigh of relief as the finger wormed deeper, pressing on his prostate. "Yes." He hadn't lain with men often; women were less risk, especially for a man already hiding a large part of himself. And while he didn't anticipate having a lot of sex with men in the future, he was relieved to know he could still enjoy it. 

"You sound so pleased." 

"You sound fairly pleased yourself." Charles grasped behind him, squeezing Erik's hip. "Thank you, Erik." 

"I'm not done yet." 

Erik took his time, playing with Charles, spreading kisses over his back, until he had three fingers inserted, before finally easing his length in. 

The sensation of his lover surrounding him felt good but unusual to Charles. He was accustomed to being the taller person in his bed, but Erik's size and strength was comforting. His cock was large too, filling Charles completely, rubbing against his prostate repeatedly. The sensations made Charles gasp as Erik's strong hands gripped him, holding him in place for his driving thrusts. 

"Touch my mind," Erik ordered, and Charles obeyed, swamped by the intensity of Erik's love and lust and the sheer pleasure of having his penis buried so deeply in Charles' body. He hadn't expected to come again, not so soon, but touching Erik's mind was overwhelming. Charles groaned, his muscles involuntarily clenching around Erik's penis as his second orgasm ripped through his body. 

Rolling them backwards, Erik cradled Charles in his long arms while his penis softened and slipped out. They were both content to relax for a long time. 

Charles wanted to protest when Erik got out of bed, but stilled his tongue. He would always feel grateful, but nothing had really changed between them. The differences in their philosophical views were a chasm greater than the Grand Canyon. 

Erik brought a wet washcloth from the bathroom, wiping the sweat and semen off Charles' naked body before tucking the covers around him. Charles felt comforted and cared for, reading in Erik's mind both his sexual and emotional satisfaction from the encounter. 

Still without talking, Erik dressed, ending with swinging the fancy cape back onto his shoulders, before courteously piling Charles' discarded clothes in the hamper. Sitting on the side of the bed, he brushed Charles' hair off his forehead. 

Catching his hand, Charles brought it to his lips, kissing the palm. "Erik – you are welcome back. Any time. We're not so different." It was a ridiculous hope, that love and sex might deter Erik from his path, but Charles had to try. 

Erik leaned over, giving Charles' lips a final kiss. "But we're different enough. I can't conform to your views. And you can't accept mine." He strode over, picked up his helmet, and in the seconds before he put it on, Charles touched his mind one last time, drinking in the love, affection and regret. 

"Oh, um – " Charles waved toward the light switch. "Would you mind? I'm not telekinetic." 

"Not at all." Erik crossed the room, flipping the light switch off. A faint shuffling noise indicated the wheelchair was being rolled back to the side of the bed. 

Knowing that Erik was stepping onto his metal disk, lifting up and flying away, Charles let himself drift off to sleep, hoping that someday his lover would return. 

~ the end ~


End file.
